So he stalked her again. Love makes hunters of us all.

Galinda didn't often stop to consider whether she believed in what she said or not; the whole point of conversations was flow.

If you have an ancestor who is a Benedictine monk, we would rather not know it.

It’s the place of the story, beginning here, in the meadow of late summer flowers, thriving before the Atlantic storms drive wet and winter upon them all.

It's unbecoming," she agreed. "A perfect word for my new life. Unbecoming. I who have always been unbecoming am becoming un.

Why lock yourself in your own cage when someone is handing you a key?

The truth isn't a thing of fact or reason. It is simply what everyone agrees on.